


The Taste of a Soul

by StrangeBlue



Series: Way Out There Be Dragons [4]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: And is a Dramatic Bitch, Best Friends, Dialogue Heavy, Don't copy to another site, Dragon Souls, Dragon souls invoke feelings and memories, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Inigo wants to talk about something else, Just happy times around the campfire, Lucien just wants to fill up his journals, Miraak Lives (Elder Scrolls), Miraak's just looking for a reason to duel against the LDB again, My shortest fic yet, No more books, Oneshot, Platonic Relationships, Scholarly Questioning, Singing our campfire song, Spongebob Voice: The Gang's All Here, The "Never mention anything about books" rule with Miraak, poking fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:47:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24813301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrangeBlue/pseuds/StrangeBlue
Summary: The Dragonborn and her friends have a very important discussion about dragon soul absorption, all the while verbally tapping the First Dragonborn with a rolled up newspaper.
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn & Inigo the Brave, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn & Lucien Flavius, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn & Miraak
Series: Way Out There Be Dragons [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1719367
Kudos: 31





	The Taste of a Soul

**Author's Note:**

> One of Lucien's voiced lines has him asking what dragon souls taste like, I thought it would be an interesting idea to explore between two dragonborns.

“It… depends? I suppose? Really it feels kinda euphoric, like a warm breath or a sigh.”

“Hmph. Crude. True power, when taken in, invokes a feeling like the rush of fire and wind, washing over one’s self with the echo of the Thu’um. There is not a thing in this world standing equal.”

“Dramatic old git.”

That earned her a grunt and light elbow in her ribs, which she managed to return before the man seated beside her dodged the attack. She smiled beneath her helmet, laughing through her nose.

“Does it  _ taste  _ like anything though? That’s the real question. I mean, I know you’re not actually eating it but- you know!”

She rested her chin on the back of her hand, thinking carefully about her answer to Lucien’s odd question. How do you describe something that can’t exactly be touched, save for two people in existence? Surprisingly enough, before she could open her mouth, it was Miraak who spoke first.

“It sometimes tastes of iron. Or blood and fresh snow. Though most times, it is like breathing in the power and tastes of nothing.”

“Oh? I always thought it was a bit more on the... smokey side? Like if you took a handful of hot embers and put it on your tongue. At least- that’s how it is for me,” she said with honesty, leaning forward and clasping her hands between her knees. 

“Maybe Dragonborns have exclusive tastes…? Individual feelings and experiences with taking souls? It’d be fascinating if that were the case.”

She’d mention Tiber Septim, but they don’t  _ talk  _ about Tiber Septim. In his experience she might imagine the taste of finer things, thunderous applause, and endless streams of clinking gold stamped with his own face. There was no point in opening that can of worms when the man was already dust.

“This conversation is making me feel sick, especially with how smelly souls actually are. You’re both soul addicts.”

“Sorry, Inigo. It’s just for the boo- scrolls. There just aren’t a lot of historical accounts about Dragonborns, even less about dragon souls.”

“Which is why it’s _amazing_ that we get to experience both of those things in twos! Ghorsha, have you ever considered writing a self biography? It could be extremely beneficial.”

“A sweet thought, but that might take the better part of a decade to draft, Lucien. Besides, my early life wasn’t that glamorous.”

“That is okay, my friend. We were all caterpillars before we were butterflies. I have no doubt your story would be worth telling, if that’s what you decide to do.”

“Quaint.”

“Oh hush,” she said, lightly slapping his pauldron with the back of her hand. “ I’ll give it some thought. Thank you Inigo.”

“Thank Mr. Dragonfly. It was his words, not mine.”

She smiled wide, even though no one could see it.

“Make sure to give him my regards, then.”

Across the bonfire, Lucien let out a small hum as he scrawled in his journal, dotting the last sentence with a hard tap against the parchment as he looked back up to them.

“Right then! Last question on the list: how do you two decide who gets the soul after killing a dragon?”

“Rock, Paper, Scissors.” “A duel.”

There was a pregnant pause as she tilted her helm as though to meet his eyes, which were unseen behind the slitted mask. Miraak sat unflinching and in her line of sight, she saw Inigo bite his lip to stifle a laugh.

“A duel?”

“A duel.”

“Since when have we ever  _ dueled _ over a dragon soul?”

“Since you managed to obtain the last three we encountered,” he said, crossing his arms across his chest. Was this four thousand year old Atmoran really  _ pouting  _ at her?

“By fair play.”

“By  chance .”

“Oh dear. Are you two really going to do this?”

“No.” “Certainly.”

Had that impassive, golden mask not been hiding his expression, she was certain there would be a smug grin on his face. The slightly cruel thought passed her mind that if the next time came that she had to fight him for a soul as he currently insisted, there was always the opportunity to test out that paralysis scroll she never got around to using.  



End file.
